


Courting the Sun

by mauther, Squid_in_disguise (hero_of_derp)



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 06:05:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6143936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mauther/pseuds/mauther, https://archiveofourown.org/users/hero_of_derp/pseuds/Squid_in_disguise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Megatron leaves a datapad of poetry behind, and Rodimus snoops. He finds a file dedicated to The Sun. But who is the Sun? If only he knew....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Courting the Sun

**Author's Note:**

> Poetry by the wonderful Mauther (soft-swerve-machine on tumblr )

_The sun he rises, flares, and fades_   
_And with each day he casts a spell_   
_There is no shelter, refuge, shade_   
_From flames, from fire, from heav’n, from hell_

_This burning pit, I must admit_  
 _I’d suffer gladly any day_  
 _So full of passion, molten-lit,_  
 _The purest pain, the only way_ \--

  
Rodimus rested his chin on the back of his hand as he read over the words. Fascinating. Megatron had a way with words, he'd always known that. There was a reason Rodimus been almost been tempted, long before, in Nyon, to join Megatron and the cause. Honey and silk could pour from Megatron's lips if he had half a mind. pure seduction.

It'd been a fluke that the other captain had left his datapad, unlocked, on the desk in his hurry to leave the office, and Rodimus was nosy and curious.

These were poems. Megatron was writing again. Writing poems. And damn, if Rodimus' spark didn't skip a rotation at the words.

There seemed to be poems about almost everyone on board, or at least prose about them. It was easy to tell who some were about. There was one about Magnus, waxing on about cleansliness and a strong tall wall against crime and grime. That was too easy. There was one about Swerve, too, the river that flowed words and energex, of which no dam could even give pause to. There was Ratchet, the cross, the healer, the hands. There were some about Rodimus, but he ignored them.

He knew what Megatron thought of him, and he didn't want to read and feel worse. And then there had been a folder simple labeled **'the sun** '.

Which sun, it was hard to tell, but Rodimus had the feeling it wasn't a body in the sky, no. It was someone. Someone on the ship or someone from his past? Who knew.

But these were love poems.

He scrolled down to the next one. He'd ready five already, and his spark fluttered in the way that only poetry, good poetry, could do.

  
I _put my past behind me now_  
 _And face the dazzling sun ahead_  
 _I worship thee, I kneel, I bow_  
 _Before the gold and crimson red_

  
He bit his lip and leaned over his desk. Megatron had it bad for someone. But who?

The door chimed and he sat up straight, tossed the datapad in the desk drawer, the one that Megatron had claimed as 'his', and picked up his own datapad, pretending to read files. "Yeah?"

The door slid open and Megatron ducked into the doorway, scowling. "Rodimus."

"Why if it isn't our resident co-captain!" Rodimus lowered his datapad as Megatron crossed the room and came around the desk. "Something I can help you with?"

"No, I just left my datapad." Megatron opened the drawer, and narrowed his eyes as he piked it up. He looked at Rodimus, who just grinned.

"What?"

"...Nothing." Megatron closed the drawer and left, as quickly as he'd arrived.

Damn it. Rodimus had been looking forward to reading more. After a moment of thought he stood, and ran into the hall, after Megatron. He saw him turning down a cooridor, and pursued him. "Yo! Megs!"

Megatron stopped and turned. "Megatron," he corrected, not that it would do any good.

"Megs," Rodimus said. He grinned. "Alright. I was snooping. Who's the sun, huh?"

Megatron scowled and turned his head. "It's rude to look at other's belongings without permission, you know. Don't the Autobots teach anything about privacy?"

"Sure, but I ignored most of it. So c'mon. Tell me. Oh, wait, let me guess-"

"Don't." Megatron started to walk on, but Rodimus was right at his heels.

"--Well then at least let me read the rest of them. I like them."

That made Megatron stop.

"You like them." The taller mech looked back at Rodimus.

"Well....yeah? I mean, you're...good at writing poetry. And whoever they are....they make you write pretty words." Rodimus held a hand out. "C'mon. Just...let me read one more. Please." He made a grabbing motion. "Pleeeeaaase."

Megatron stared Rodimus down, but the mech didn't relent. He fingers wiggled, wanting, needing the datapad.

"One more."

"No."

"Megatron c'mon!" Rodimus stepped closer. "Just one more, please-"

"No." Megatron repeated. When Rodimus grabbed for the datapad, Megatron simply lifted it over their heads. "You can't read 'one more' because there isn't any more."

"Yes there is, I saw it!"

"It's not finished."

"I don't care." Rodimus jumped, grabbing at the datapad. "C'monnn!"

Megatron made a face and began to lower the datapad. As Rodimus reached for it Megatron stepped forward. Rodimus stumbled back. Another step forward, and Rodimus stepped back, and another, and another, until Rodimus hit the wall.

"Megs, hey, I was just -- relax, fine, I don't need to read the stupid poem-"

Rodimus inhaled sharply as Megatron rested his hand on the wall beside Rodimus' helm, face lowered, close to his own.

"If you want to hear what I have, then I will share it," Megatron said, voice low, quiet, in a tone that made Rodimus' legs feel weak. Megatron moved his head, his next words whispered next to Rodimus' audial, low, grating.

_"Sharpened edges, pristine points_   
_Lines of kibble round his joints_   
_Tires that spin and skid and swerve_   
_Tracing, racing round each curve."_

Rodimus closed his optics as the words flowed over him. Megatron's field was pressing against his, making him almost claustraphobic. It was almost comforting, however, being enveloped, surrounded. Megatron moved his hand, the back of his knuckles brushing over Rodimus' cheek.

Rodimus onlined his optics, startled, looking up at Megatron to the side, watching the side of his helm as the silver mech whispered sweet words. He was pressed as close against the wall as he could be.

_"Sharpened edges, pristine points_   
_Lines of kibble round his joints_   
_Tires that spin and skid and swerve_   
_Tracing, racing round each curve_   
_Reckless, brash, and full of zest_   
_Will this one yet pass the test?_   
_Yes it’s true he stole my spark_   
_With gaudy flames as his trademark "_

Rodimus twitched.

...Flames?

Was that-

_"But time can only tell if he_   
_Deserves to bond conjunx with me_   
_There must be something deeper there_   
_Beneath bravado and hot air_   
_But rarely do I witness times_   
_When truth slips through the lips of Prime’s"_

Flames, Primes, Primus, who else could it be? Rodimus' thoughts stalled.

_"With patience I will wait for him_   
_To see if he will sink or swim_   
_My digits crossed I hope and pray_   
_My love I haven’t thrown away."_

Rodimus reached up with shaky hand and turned his head. Megatron pulled back, and they stared at each other. Rodimus reset his vocalizer, but even then his voice seemed scratchy.

"That....seems like it's pretty finished to me," Rodimus whispered. He touched Megatron's chest, tenderly, as if he was afraid to get burned.

Or, perhaps, as if he was afraid to do the burning.

"Is it?"

Rodimus stared up at Megatron. "..No one's ever...writen about a poem about me before," he mumbled. "I...It's beautiful."

"Like the one who inspired it," Megatron said, smooth. He cupped Rodimus' chin, and his thumb traced Rodimus' lips. "...I can't help but stare, though I know I shouldn't." He drew Rodimus' face forward, and Rodimus shuddered. "After all. If one stares at the sun for too long-"

  
Rodimus grabbed Megatron and yanked him down, kissing the other mech hard, hungry, clumsy. Their dentae clacked together and Rodimus pulled back. "Megatron-"

Megatron curled his hand behind Rodimus' neck and pulled him into a kiss, slower, more prepared. He pinned Rodimus against the wall, and Rodimus grabbed onto Megatron, clinging, desperately, devouring and being devoured.

He was the sun. He was Megatron's sun. The implications were almost too much.

Megatron broke the kiss, only to turn Rodimus' head to the side, exposing neck. He bit at the cords, kissed, and Rodimus moaned, his frame warming like a flick had been twitched inside him.

"Megatron, you mean it, don't you, every word," Rodimus breathed.

"Every word." Megatron's arm wrapped around Rodimus' waist, pulling him close, pressing him against the wall.


End file.
